Meltdown
by Fueled By Dr. Pepper
Summary: When things reach critical mass, there is only one option to return to the base state. 1023 words.


**A/N: Still hesitant to put this under a lower rating, even if the language is sparse.

* * *

**Something was wrong. McKinley was winning the football game and that was good but Karofsky looked horrible. His playing was off and Coach Beiste was let down enough to bench him for the rest of the game in the first quarter. There wasn't a plea to get back out there. He didn't glance at Kurt, even during Cheerios routines. He just stared ahead seemingly keeping himself from beating something. Or someone.

Despite the animosity between them, Kurt felt this duty to help him. He was the bigger person where it counted and maybe he could show Karofsky a less turbulent for his feelings. Kurt caught up with him on the way to the locker room during half time.

"What do you want?"

The words were icy and the individual syllables struggled to make their way through clenched teeth.

"I want to know how you're doing. You seem like you could use a friend right now."

Kurt added an extra layer of soothing calm to hide the fear he still held being so to Karofsky.

"I have friends," he quickly retorted, "besides, don't you have a boyfriend out in those stands? Talk to him."

The crack in the first word of the last sentence put an extra tone of hurt in Karofsky's thinly veiled defense.

Kurt tried not to laugh but he hardly hid the amazement in his voice, "Are you jealous?"

Karofsky hit the wall with his helmet, "You should shut up and get out of my face."

Kurt wasn't backing away, "Don't think you can intimidate me when you're not even strong enough to come out of the closet."

"What's that?"

Karofsky shrunk and looked down while Kurt turned around to identify the owner of the third voice. He instantly regretted everything with he realized it was Karofsky's father. Kurt had only seen him a few times when the man dropped off a car at Burt's garage. Mr. Karofsky always sneered at Kurt.

"He . . . he isn't saying anything but smack talk, Dad. Go back to the stands."

Kurt nodded in agreement, unable to speak.

"Are . . . are you a fucking queer, Dave?"

Kurt winced and the football player next to him whimpered.

"No, Dad, please just go."

Mr. Karofsky started at his son, first shoving him against a wall and then shaking him. Kurt didn't wait to hear the angry mutterings start, he ran to get help. Mr. Shuester and Principal Figgins were talking near the cheerleader and Sue Slyvester. Kurt ran up to the gathering and merely blurted out, "Karofsky's father is getting angry with him."

All three adults ran back with him to the doors of the locker room. There, Beiste had just pried Mr. Karofsky away while a few player helped Dave up.

"What the hell is going on?"

Beiste wasn't afraid to shake the man as she let go of him to get an answer.

"I come to ask why my son is playing like shit and I find him talking with that fairy," he pointed out Kurt, "about being gay."

Mr. Shuester stepped up, "Sir, I don't think this is an appropriate venue to discuss this."

"Don't talk to me. Your stupid it's-okay-to-be-a-fruit attitude probably helped turn him."

Principal Figgins moved in, "Mr. Karofsky, please go back to the stands. We can all talk in my office tomorrow morning."

"There won't be any talking going on. If he's a faggot, he's out of my house."

Sue finally spoke up, "Well, are you gay, Karofsky?"

A few of his teammates shuffled away, Puck was the one to stay by his side.

" . . . I don't know."

"You stupid little-"

Dave snapped at the sound of his father's voice this time. Before anyone could stop it, he rushed at his father, hitting him and trying to get him in a chokehold.

Puck and Beiste struggled to get them separated while stadium security made it's way over on Figgins' radio call.

Both father and son were soon seated on the floor in handcuffs.

"What's gonna happen to them?"

Shue was whispering with Figgins and the on-duty police officer assisting security.

"Well, Mr. Karofsky will spend a night in jail. Dave'll probably be in foster care, that is, if he's not put in juvie – kid's got a record of violent outburts."

"He can't!"

Puck went from listening in to speaking out.

"They'll eat him alive in there if they find out he's – you can't let him go through that."

Figgins sighed, "I'm sorry Mr. Puckerman but there just aren't many options for your friend."

Kurt nudged Puck, "Puck, please, do something."

Puck thought quickly, "My community service. I could make counseling Karofsky my community service."

Shue shok his head, "Puck, you aren't prepared for that kind of work. Dave needs real help."

Kurt spoke, "I could help. Puck would work with him on his rage. I'd help him with being out. We know him better than some counselor in juvie will. And how much more help will he need to survive in a place where he's a prime target?"

The adults looked at each other, coming to a silent consensus.

The police officer conferred, "It would work but he's still gonna need a place to stay tonight, his mother just told us she's siding with her husband. He isn't welcome home."

Neither Puck nor Kurt could solve that so they kept silent.

Shue sighed, "I've got room. I could let him stay until he finds something."

Figgins walked back to the stands and the rest went to collect Dave. The officer explained things to the boy as he took off the cuffs.

Dave looked at them, "Why are you doing this for me?"

Shue patted his shoulder, "Because no one deserves to dread each day."

Dave swallowed and wiped at his nose, refusing to cry, "I'm sorry."

"We know, dude," Puck punched his shoulder as he reassured him.

"No, I mean it. Especially you, Kurt. I'm sorry about . . ."

Kurt sniffled, touched by the gesture, "It'll be okay. We'll be okay – in time."

Things weren't completely right, but they were getting better.


End file.
